A reason to have faith
by An angels grace
Summary: What do you call an angel with no faith exactly? Or what about a Hunter who's already dead inside? (Fluffy stuff and summarizing of their relationship - Kind of)


**A reason to have faith;;**

Colour danced to that of an non-perceivable tempo to the storm that conflicted the world around the two figures that had one another supported in an unfamiliar, yet tender embrace. Mutual, as it may seem there dwells a different array of passion beneath the seamed fates of two men.

* * *

One possesses soft, pretty features that he had been gifted from his mother. Being known as a soft-faced hunter among those graced fondly with their ever precious trust, freckles peppering a galaxy of appealing characteristics their counterpart always felt captivated by, compelled to invade the others area of personal-space to memorize constellations and designs that stained now-flushed cheeks.

However, it is the eyes that tell it all. Behind emerald-coated irises of iridescent and virid greens resided the suffering he fell victim to. Soft characteristics wash away like a feather in the wind once a glimpse of the over flowing pool that conflicted the hard-faced hunter. A soul once bare and brittle-y close to shattering-point, mending into its ever fragile compounds time after time but even upon the rebuilding of structure, brick by brick he had fallen susceptible to his demons of many.

However, regardless of their aching heart, broken and built back up from its foundation all over again the burden within him slowly but surely dissipates even if it can never truly fade. The only family he knows of is cause to that, but another figure stands out with a righteous and faithful glow.

From the beginning of time, he had known nothing but 'look out for Sam' as his father had lectured on and on about consistently. Enough to make ones head spin like that of a mad-man. God and angels took no refuge in the cold, crevices of his heart because he harboured no faith. However, until an angel known as Castiel descended into the hell-bitten depths of Perdition to raise him from his sins. Sins that to this day haunt him like a bitter taste of mind.

Castiel had been the most awkward, and all-too-innocent being he had ever come to known and over time had taught even a creature as beaten and rundown as himself into having faith. Faith in something he knows he'll never come to comprehend, but despite this he had fallen ill under the influence of the angel, Castiel.

Spending endless hours of bickering, helpless disputes and distrust with the dark-haired man once known as a; Jimmy Novak, now an angel who broke ranks cut and bleeding for the long-lost cause of the Winchesters. It had been as though every mistake he had acted out upon hadn't been for his own personal end game. Every sin and wrong doing that had burrowed into the cracks and crevices of his soul over looked into the true good within.

He could never come to understand why a being of God could hold such faith and loyalty unto his disgrace, but even with these troubles, it hardly even matters. Castiel was his, and his alone. He was his angel.

* * *

The other being was a man with unruly onyx locks, always dishevelled that voiced out their lack in understanding towards humanity and its necessities. An angel they were, or rather a poor excuse of one as they had been dubbed all on their own accord.

Hard brows, and sharp features cloak the insides of angelic-matter that is often covered up convincingly simple but once a glimpse of what once bright cyan eyes had now become will preach a different story.

Burdened by the legacy of disgrace and impurity he carries like a sack slung over one shoulder simple-handedly. Deceit and betrayal is masked behind untouchable creations of developing emotion, all in which had sickly plagued his grace to its fulfilling shape. Full to the brim with doubt and questions haunt one like the back of his hand, though this time it is possible to see them. Watching helplessly as past 'revelations' had conflicted the judgement of few or many, like a playback reel.

'What do you call an angel with no faith', as they had consistently asked themselves in their own state of mind. Lost endless to the constricting emotions and doorways to doubt that branched through the membranes of an ever developing mind. Despite a knowledge vast with the intellect to several millenia of programming, they still knew very little in regards to necessities of man-kind. Lost susceptible to those who seize advantageous triumph upon he.

But regardless of which, he had been led unto the halls that lead towards doubt. A doubt in their fathers true nature and plan, the plan to carry out any order requested or demanded. It was simple as such, but even being the good-soldier he so gravely strives to be, has fallen victim to the mere bond a human and he harbours. Throughout his very fabrication of memory, never had such a petty and miniscule creature shed such influence unto an angel to that of the lord. But even with their poor titles, this one was a lot more than a simple human-being that Father had so generously crafted with the very fixation of angelic grace and devilish snares of cunningest. Swift and sharp as the sharp edge of a blade wielded by only the man himself. This person is known as Dean Winchester, or better yet the Righteous man.

Over their presence on earth, he had grown fond over the Winchester brothers, but his impeccable bond with Dean was undeniably indescribable. Nourished by these two tiny human beings into the being he stands as today, a tale still yet untold and unwritten by even the most expert of writers or prophets.

Everyone could understand how even a wave length of a celestial intent could be directed onto a path as such, a journey alongside a brother of his human and the non forseeable fate they had been directed towards by something known as chance.

No one would have ever guessed that they would ever but surely, fall in love.

* * *

So as they sway in the darkness, wind clutching and tearing at their thin clothing a smile fixes to the uplifting corners of each others lips. Eyes brightening for a brief moment with satisfaction before they're drawn susceptible to their harbouring desires of tenderness that had been drowned with denial over the passing years having bonded together. But now, the entire ordeal is clouded by the thick haze of arising opportunity as warm breath is exchanged upon now parted lips.

It isn't long before they're lost in one another, eyes shut with wondering hope that skirts around the depths of their stomachs, everlasting desperation of fulfillment subsiding as souls very much alike yet so different meld into one.

Perhaps there still is a reason to harbour something even as a simple and petty as faith..

* * *

**A/n;; A short little fix I wrote in my spare time. I honestly believe it could be improved, but hey, what can yea do? Anyways, despite it's fluffy and cheesiness I hope it was decent.**


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